Distress
by medicgirl
Summary: A series of double murders brings the BAU to a tiny town where they learn the true meaning of friendship, torture, and distress. FINALLY COMPLETE!
1. One Sick Bastard

Disclaimer: None of the Criminal Minds people, places, or things are mine, unfortunately. Although Christmas is coming up...

Author's note: This is set during season 2, between Revelations and No Way Out 2. I mean, come on. Just not ready to give up on Gideon.

Derek Morgan came up behind Spencer Reid and clapped him on the back, causing the younger profiler to nearly jump out of his skin. "You bailed on me last night!"

"Morgan, I told you I wasn't going to go out last night. I turn you down every time you try to get me to "party" with you. When are you going to give up?"

Morgan shook his head. "You can't live in that huge brain of yours forever. And it is my job to teach you the ropes. Your official, government-issue big brother. I'll have you singing karaoke and cutting the rug in no time!" He slung his arm around the younger man's thin shoulders and pulled him down into a headlock as he ground his knuckles into Reid's scalp.

Reid struggled and fought and finally pulled himself loose from his friend's grip, then hurriedly smoothed his hair and looked around, blushing, to see if anyone had witnessed Morgan's adolescent display. Fortunately, they were alone in the break room. "Do you want me to even start on the list of reasons that will **NEVER** happen?"

Realizing how badly he had embarrassed his friend, Morgan calmed down a little. "Seriously, Reid. You're young. You should get out a little more. I'm just trying to-"

He was cut off as the door to the break room opened, and Jennifer Jareau popped her blond head in. "Meeting room in ten, guys. This one looks bad." The door closed behind her.

Reid looked at Morgan. This was why they had random moments of childishness. Because the real world always came crashing down hard.

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A copy of the file sat open in front of each team member, gruesome photos covering the round table. Six pairs of eyes followed JJ as she paced, laying out the case for them. "Police have located three pairs of bodies in and around Clayton, Kentucky. The first pair a month ago, another three weeks ago, and the third last week."

"Pairs?" Prentiss asked.

JJ nodded. "Two bodies found each time. One brutally tortured, one simply shot in the head. Both dumped together." She turned and put a gory photograph on the overhead projector. "First victims, Robert Mills and Jason Fuller. First cousins, very close according to family. They disappeared on their way to class at the local community college and were found 48 hours later. Victim A, Robert, was beaten, shocked with a cattle prod, cut with a large knife, had his fingernails removed as well as three whole toes. Victim B, Jason, was simply shot in the head."

Hotch spoke up. "How long was the gap between times of death?"

JJ looked through the papers. "No discernable gap. They died at approximately the same time." She changed the picture for one equally gruesome. "David and Amy Marsten, second set of victims. Husband and wife, taken on their way home from a movie. Amy was tortured in much the same way as Robert Fuller, with a few new ideas. This one involved hydrochloric acid. David was shot point blank in the head with a .45."

Changing the photo again, the third set of victims appeared on the wall. "Michael Targus and Victor Johanssan. Best friends, totally inseparable since tenth grade, taken from the bowling alley parking lot. Same M.O., except the unsub seems to be getting more creative with each victim. This time he utilized what the M.E. can only speculate was a power sander."

Morgan scanned through the files, paying more attention than he should be comfortable with to the bodies. "What are these marks on the Victim Bs' wrists? Were they bound?"

Hotch and Gideon studied the red marks on the wrists. "Looks like it," Gideon said. "And if they were bound, and they both died at approximately the same time…"

"They were forced to watch," Hotch finished. He found himself drawn to the picture of Amy Marsten. He couldn't imagine being forced to watch while someone did this to Haley. This was one sick son of a bitch.

"Geez!" Morgan breathed, risking a glance at Reid. He remembered all to well the helpless agony of watching via internet link as Tobias Hankel worked Reid over. The horror of watching your best friend suffer and not being able to help…he shivered imperceptibly.

"So," said Prentiss, "we have a sadistic killer who likes to have an audience."

"Maybe not," Reid put in. "Usually a sadistic killer has a type of victim that he targets. This guy has gone from a 22 year old male to a thirty year old female then back to a 25 year old male. That just doesn't fit."

"Unless victim A isn't really the target," Gideon said.

"What do you mean?" asked Reid.

"He's not really trying to torture victim A. They're just a means to an end."

Hotch nodded. "Which is worse, being in pain or watching someone you care about in pain?" They all looked at Reid, remembering how helpless they felt in Georgia. Any one of them would have traded places with him in an instant.

They stared at each other for a split second, letting this sink in. Finally, Hotch stood up and closed the file. "Ok, guys. Wheels up in an hour."


	2. The Middle of Nowhere

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Probably never will be.

This is dedicated to PJ and my team at Clay County.

Even though Reid was raised in Las Vegas, during his time with the BAU he had seen many small towns. A lot of serial killers hung out in small towns for some reason. But he had never seen a place like Clayton, Kentucky.

The jet had landed in a remote airstrip in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. It actually turned out to be the outskirts of nowhere. As they exited the airplane, they were met by a young woman. She was pretty, in a relaxed way, with her long red hair pulled up in a ponytail, green 5.11 tactical pants, and a black t-shirt that said DEPUTY in large white letters. Also a .45 on her belt, and a smaller weapon, possibly a .380, on her ankle above a pair of black Bates quarterboots. _Damn_, Morgan thought to himself,_ They don't make 'em like that in Chicago! Wish to hell they did, though!_

"Hi," she said. "I'm Teri Mitchell. I'm here to give you guys a ride back to town."

Reid eyed the red crew-cab Nissan truck, wondering just how this girl thought she was going to fit seven people into that thing. Teri caught him staring, however, and laughed. "Oh, there's only room for five of us in there. My brother should be here any time. He was right behind me, but he's such a wuss about these roads. He's got the county's Suburban, there should be more than enough room for everyone and their stuff. Everything that's heavy enough not to blow out can go in my truck."

Hotch stepped forward and put out his hand. "Sorry, I forgot my manners. I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner, this is SSA Jason Gideon, SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Emily Prentiss, SA Jennifer Jareau, Dr. Spencer Reid."

Teri shook Hotch's hand and nodded to each of the others in turn. "Yes, agent Hotchner. We spoke on the phone."

Hotch looked confused. "I'm sorry. I don't remember speaking with a deputy on this case. I spoke to the coroner, and the sheriff…"

"Oops, my bad," Teri said with a smile. "Forgot to mention. I'm also the county coroner."

"Coroner and deputy?" said Gideon. "You must be a busy lady."

"You have no idea. I'm also the only paramedic for the Clayton township ambulance service." She saw a cloud of dust in the distance. "That must be my brother. Let me get your bags into the truck, and when he gets here we'll head out." She picked up the bag at JJ's feet and the one at Reid's and headed for the truck. Hotch, Morgan, and Gideon followed with the rest of the bags, and by the time they were all in the bed of the pickup, the hunter green Suburban had pulled up.

A lanky young man got out, his hair the same color as Teri's, in a short military-style crew cut. He was only a little taller than his sister, maybe not even two inches, but with a slighter build. He was dressed identically, only his shirt said SHERIFF. Hotch and Gideon exchanged a glance. "Uh, not to be rude or anything," Hotch began, "but just how old are you?"

Reid winced. He had heard that same statement too many times. "What he means is that it must be a major accomplishment to get voted in as sheriff as young as you are."

The boy smirked. "Thanks, though I know what he meant." He turned back to Hotch. "I'll be twenty-three in two months, sir, but I've been a part of this job since I was six years old. I'm Trevor Mitchell, by the way."

As the crew seemed to be a little confused by his statement, Teri clarified. "Our father was the sheriff for fifteen years. Trevor and I were practically raised with a badge. When our parents were killed last year in a car crash, nobody even ran against us. Trevor wanted sheriff, and I took over as coroner. Mom's job." She looked down for a brief moment, and Trevor put a hand on her shoulder. Then just like that, she was all business again. "You guys ready to go?"

They divided up, Morgan taking shotgun in Teri's truck with Reid in the back seat. Hotch, Gideon, JJ, and Prentiss went with Trevor. Once again, the little red truck sped off, leaving the large SUV in the dust. Trevor shook his head. "Geez! I wish she wouldn't drive like that!" he muttered under his breath, and Hotch was reminded for a moment of his own little brother.

"If you're 22, how old is she?" Hotch asked, sincerely hoping she was the older sibling. If she was younger, damn…this case was going to be interesting. Interesting like Children of the Corn was interesting.

"She's older," Trevor said, and Hotch got the uncomfortable feeling that the boy could read his mind. Was this how other people felt when talking to profilers? It was a little disconcerting. "She's 25."

"You guys seem very close," JJ said from the back seat. "And not even the least bit competitive?" There was a nervous tone creeping into her voice.

Gideon chuckled. "In other words, you aren't going to try to catch up with her, right?"

Trevor laughed. "No. We don't compete with each other. And I couldn't catch her anyway. That little truck has got some major power. But don't worry, she's a good driver. Your friends are safe."

And with that, they drove off into the middle of nowhere.


	3. Siblings

A/N: So sorry this has taken so long! This internet router tore up at work, and that's where I was from last Wednesday to Monday. Plus, my mentor, Dewayne, had serious cardiac problems this week and wound up in intensive care. Him and his wife Revelle would appreciate your prayers. I know this chapter doesn't realy take you anywhere, but I wanted to post it as soon as possible and not keep you waiting any longer than necessary. Anyway, enjoy and review! I'm doing something wrong? Missing something? That's what that little "review" button is for!

Morgan's head bounced off the window of the small truck as they left the dirt road in favor of a gravel one. It was not an improvement. "I told you to put your seat belt on," Teri said, trying to hide her grin. Reid, who had a much smaller passenger compartment to bounce around in, simply braced himself on the 'Holy crap' handles and enjoyed the ride. It was like one of those motion simulator rides. If you ignore the possibility of wrecking and dying…

"So, Teri," Morgan said, fighting the urge to close his eyes and block out the feeling of impending doom her NASCAR-style driving brought on, "have you lived here all your life?"

She nodded. "Born and raised here. Trevor too. So, do you guy want to go check into the lodge first, or go straight to the crime scenes?"

Morgan glanced back at Reid. Usually they went on to the scenes, but they didn't usually have all their bags in the back of a pickup truck. "I…uh…well…"

Not used to Morgan being at a loss for words, Reid spoke up. "We usually go to the scene first, but we should probably unload our gear first."

"Nobody's gonna bother anything in this truck. Your stuff's safe if you want to go to the scenes."

Her assurance confused Reid. "How can you be so sure?"

Pausing for a moment to process this, she finally turned to Reid, running off the gravel onto the grass and giving Morgan a minor heart attack in the process. "Where are you from?"

"Las Vegas, Nevada."

She snorted. "Of course, that explains a lot."

"What does that mean?"

"There are 1754 people in Clayton. I know every single one of them personally. No one is going to steal out of the deputy sheriff's truck, let alone steal from Kenny Mitchell's little girl."

"You know every person in this town?" Reid's mind started racing.

Morgan saw where this was leading, and knew it wouldn't be good. "Reid, I don't think-"

"But there's a very good chance she's knows the murderer!"

Teri slammed the brakes on and the truck skidded sideways to a stop. "Excuse me?"

Reid was oblivious to the venom dripping in her tone. "In small towns like this, there's a statistical probability that the killer is a resident of the area, since outsiders are more likely to be noticed. Add to this the fact that these murders hint that someone knew the victims' schedules, it all points to a local."

If there was venom in her voice before, it's wonder the acid in her voice didn't eat through Reid's skin. "NO ONE in my town would do something like this!"

Almost confused by her small-town pride, Reid tried to defend himself. "I'm just saying that it's a possibility we have to consider."

Teri swerved again, making a hard turn onto the patchy blacktop past a sign that said CLAYTON, 20 MILES. Morgan took a deep breath. "Reid, do you think you can avoid pissing her off more until we get out of this German deathtrap?"

In almost perfect unison, both Teri and Reid corrected him. "It's Japanese!"

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With all the mobile radios in the suburban, it took Gideon a few seconds to realize it was the handheld unit in the cup holder beside him when it spoke. "Tango to Cash. Come in, bub."

Trevor knew immediately which one it was, and picked it up as soon as Teri stopped speaking. "Cash here."

The reception was statickier than the other radios, but it was still clear enough for the team to understand as well as its intended recipient. "These guys want to go to the scenes first. Marsten one's closest."

"Yeah. Meet ya there."

"10-4."

Trevor started to put the radio down, then had second thoughts. He held it back up and pressed the button. "Hey, sis?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to make the Feds piss their pants before we get to the scene. Take it easy. You know your right front tire's not holding air right."

"10-4, Cash. I'll be careful. Tango out."

He put the radio down, and looked over at Gideon. "Yeah, I know. Can't say piss over the radio, improper radio terminology, and probably half a dozen FCC violations. But nobody can hear us on that channel. It's a special frequency Dad programmed for him and Mom, totally unofficial. It's not on anything but those two radios. It's just for me and Teri now."

JJ couldn't keep back her giggle any longer. "Tango and Cash?"

Trevor turned slightly red. "It's our favorite movie. We used those as call signs when we were kids playing cops, now we use them for real."

Hotch let his mind again wonder briefly to Sean. Maybe without the ten-year age gap they would have been closer and maybe they would have inside jokes like that. He wondered what his brother's favorite movie was. He had no idea.

"Anyway," Trevor continued, "the other guys said they want to go on to the closest dump scene. You guys okay with that?"

"Sure," Said Hotch. "Right down to business."

The blue light on the handheld radio lit up again. "Hey, slowpoke! What's your '20?"

Trevor shook his head. "Still ten out. Just how man laws did you break?"

"Many laws of physics, God, and the Commonwealth of Kentucky. Hurry up! Tango out."

"Cash out." He shook his head again. "She says I worry too much. But after what happened to Mom and Dad, how can I not?"


	4. Not Over Yet

Morgan had never been so happy to see a crime scene. His pride wouldn't allow him to drop and kiss the dirt, but it was a closer thing than he would have liked. Reid staggered slightly as he extricated himself from the tiny backseat of the crew cab, and Morgan knew his heart had to be racing too. God, the girl drove like a maniac!

The scene was typical, a corner of the woods taped off with police tape. They had parked just inside the tree line, and began studying their surroundings. It looked like a typical southern Kentucky forest with the exception of the dark, vaguely human-shaped spot in the dirt from the blood that had seeped out of the torture victim, and the small dark spot from the gunshot wound of the other victim. In no time, Morgan had finished his walkthrough, Reid had done his "genius" thing and pulled clues out of thin air (or so it seemed to Teri). She watched as he examined everything, details she never would have thought significant. When he stood up, compared the photo of the bodies in his hand to the scene around him, and proclaimed that it was the act of murder was secondary to a larger purpose, and that there was nothing symbolic in the way they were dumped, she looked at him as if he were a particularly interesting insect. One with seven legs or something.

"How in the Hell did you come to that conclusion?" She demanded.

Reid was flustered. His team had gotten to the point where they just accepted what he said as right. It had been a long time since he'd had to explain his trains of thought. "Well, if murder was that actual intent, he wouldn't go through so much to get to it. And if he was, he would do the same to both victims. And the way the bodies are laying, they weren't positioned specifically or anything. It looks like they were just dumped out of a vehicle and left like they fell. It's simple stuff. Sherlock Holmes stuff."

She tilted her head, studying him for a minute. "I never liked Sherlock Holmes. Seemed like he was always guessing."

Reid grinned. Such a perfect challenge. This girl spoke his language. He wondered briefly if she knew anything about Star Trek. "It's not guessing if you have all the pieces to the puzzle."

Her face lit up in the smile her brother would recognize as her 'this is going to get me in trouble, but damn, it'll be fun' look. "I have got to see you drunk!"

Whatever Reid had been expecting, that was NOT it. "You…um…excuse me, WHAT?"

Morgan laughed. He loved Reid like a brother, but sometimes the kid was so clueless. Well, to be fair, this girl had an unorthodox way of doing things, but that was definitely part of her charm. "Reid, I believe the lady just asked you for a drink. Now, are you going to accept, or do I get to sweep in and try to ease the burn of rejection?"

Reid and Teri looked at each other for a split-second and simultaneously rolled their eyes. Morgan couldn't help but laugh.

"Um…well, I'd love to," Reid said, "but we don't drink when we're on cases. Maybe…something else?"

Teri's grin turned downright evil. "Yeah. Something else…"

Just then her radio went off again. "Cash to Tango. If you guys have things covered at the Marsten scene, we're going to move on to the Mills/Fuller scene. You guys good?"

She looked over at Morgan and Reid, who nodded. "Everything's 10-4 here. See what you guys can figure out over there."

"Cool. And the BLS crew back at the station wants to know if they should go ahead and take the transfer to Lexington, or wait until the next crew comes in."

Teri sighed. "Dammit, Jim! I'm a paramedic, not a dispatcher!" She thought for a moment. "Tell them to go ahead and go, I'll be on call. Surely someone can drive me."

Reid thought his heart would choke him completely as it jumped into his throat. She was a Star Trek fan! Enough of one to make jokes. Wow.

She continued. "I'll put my radio on scan, that way I can hear you and Bradley."

"Who's Bradley?" Morgan asked.

"Dispatcher," Teri replied, pushing buttons on her radio.

"Was he on duty when the bodies were found?"

Teri shrugged. "He's pretty much always on duty. From four p.m. to eight a.m. six days a week. He's our only full time dispatcher. When he's not there, he's at school or with me training. Bradley and Trevor are in paramedic class, so maybe I can get a full night's sleep sometime in the near future."

Morgan nodded knowingly. He had received many calls to duty during the few hours of sleep his mind allowed him. He couldn't imagine being the only one in town trained to do his job. He took out his cell phone to call Hotch to check in, and Teri caught the motion. "Won't have any service out here. This whole area is a cellular dead zone." She waved the radio. "This is the best way to keep in touch. You need to use it?"

Morgan took it, and thought for a moment, trying to keep in the spirit of things, he keyed up and said, "Murtaugh to Riggs?"

There was radio silence for a moment, and Teri giggled, Morgan wondered whether Hotch or Gideon would actually answer to that. Finally Hotch answered, sounding amused. "Uh…Riggs here. Go ahead."

Morgan smiled. This was kinda fun. "Just lettin' you know that we've done all we can here. You guys want us to check out the other scene?"

There was another moment of quiet, then Hotch spoke again. "Yeah, if you want to. We'll head to the lodge and get set up."

"10-4. Murtaugh out."

Reid was looking at him funny. "Murtaugh?"

Morgan stared for a moment. "Reid, for the love of God, tell me you've seen Lethal Weapon. You HAVE to have seen it!"

Reid shook his head. "Nope."

Teri looked at him. "How is that even possible? I have all four of them on DVD!"

"Four of them?" Reid asked.

It was a good thing the radio went off then, because nothing else would have saved Reid from the most merciless teasing he had ever been on the receiving end of. "_Clayton dispatch to unit 661_."

Morgan held the radio out to Teri. "That you?"

She took the radio, but shook her head. "Nope. I'm 660."

"Then who's 661?" Reid asked.

Morgan already knew the answer. "Trevor, right?"

She nodded. "This can't be good. Bradley never uses our numbers. He calls us by name."

"_661, dispatch. Go ahead_."

"_You need to report to Johnson's farm, back field, in reference to…"_ The dispatcher trailed off, not liking what he had to say. "_In reference to double 10-7."_

"Oh, God," Teri muttered.

Morgan dropped his head.

Reid looked confused. "What? What's a 10-7?"

"They've found more victims," Teri said. She keyed up the radio. "Tango to Cash. You copy?"

"_10-4."_

She looked up at Morgan. "Ok Tell Riggs me an his boys will meet you there."

"_10-4."_


	5. A Solid Victimology

Disclaimer: Still not mine. But Christmas is coming up...

A/N: Sorry this took so long. It's finals week. Enjoy, and please review. Please??

Trevor and his half of the BAU were several miles closer than Teri was, so they got there about the same time. The two of them were over to the bodies before the profilers were even out of the vehicles. The farmer was sitting on the tailgate of his own pickup, shaking and pulling his coat tighter around himself. "Mr. Johnson?" Trevor asked hesitantly, as if afraid the old man was going to faint.

The old man pointed toward over toward the fence. "The cows got out this morning. I was driving along the fence line to see where the gap was. They were just laying there, like they were asleep. Boy, why would anyone want to hurt Josh?"

Teri's heart sank. "Josh?"

Mr. Johnson nodded. "One of them is Josh Williams. He is…was…such a good boy. Even for a state trooper, he never had any enemies. Who would do this?" His voice was shaking, and Teri put an arm on his shoulders. He was nearing eighty. Nobody needed this, but especially not this poor old man.

"Sir, who is the other one?" Trevor asked.

The old man looked up at him. "Boy, I've known you since you still pissed your pants. Call me Albert." There was no need for anyone to repeat the question. He sighed. "I don't know."

"You didn't recognize the other victim?" Teri asked.

The old man shook his head. "His own momma wouldn't recognize him."

The Mitchells looked at each other. "Thanks," Teri said. "You can head back to the House, Mr. Johnson. We'll take it from here."

He stood up and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "You kids are so young. You shouldn't have to deal with stuff like this!"

Trevor looked hi directly in the eye, and Hotch was suddenly reminded that no matter how young this kid may seem, he was a man, and did not need to be coddled. He had done this three other times already. "Mr. Johnson…Albert…_NOBODY_ should have to deal with stuff like this."

"Amen," Gideon muttered under his breath, and Hotch nodded his agreement. They were ALL too young for this. Even Albert Johnson.

Mr. Johnson got in his ancient Dodge truck and left, and the Clayton law enforcement team stepped over to the bodies. "Oh, God," said Teri. "It is Josh."

The BAU team moved in around them. Albert was right. The other body would be almost impossible to identify. To someone who didn't know Josh. Trevor pulled on a pair of gloves and knelt by the other body. It was a mess. There was very little skin left on the torso, arms or legs. Trevor picked up the left wrist, where there was still a little skin and pulled the watch off. He closed his eyes for a moment, then showed Teri. There was a Japanese symbol tattooed there. "It's him," he confirmed to his sister.

"You know who the second vic is?" Morgan asked.

Trevor nodded. "Jimmy Hagar. Josh's partner. They're inseparable."

"Partner?" Hotch asked.

Teri stood up. "They're state cops. Josh has been on the force for fifteen years, Jimmy for ten. They've been partners the whole time."

They all exchanged a glance. Watching your partner suffer like that…The BAU team had only been together for a few years. These two had been together for ten years. "Uh, guys?" Reid said. While they had been absorbing this news, he had taken a closer look at the less damaged body. "Guys, look at this. This isn't right."

Teri opened her mouth to say _of course_ it wasn't right, two good cops, good men, good friends were laying here dead, tortured. Then she saw what he saw. "O…K…" She said, confused. "That isn't right."

Trevor was about to ask, then caught his sister's eyes. She glanced down at the unmarked skin of the dead man's forehead. "He wasn't shot," Reid clarified for everyone.

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The sheriff's office was in the old jail, and when they referred to it as the old jail, they meant that it was under the protection of the historical society and that it hadn't been used as a jail in any of their lifetimes. The last prisoner had been moved out to a newer facility two years before Gideon had been born. The ancient brick structure suited the Mitchells, though, as they had been practically raised there. It also had a practically empty upstairs that was the perfect profilers headquarters, if they didn't mind the cells that were still there. The doors didn't lock anymore, but Morgan and Reid still insisted in sitting in the corridor.

Teri paced along one wall inside what had once been the drunk tank. "I'm just a small town coroner, and we'll have to wait for the autopsy results, but my best guess would be that he died of a heart attack."

"A heart attack?" JJ said, flipping through the file. "At forty?"

Teri nodded. "He was tied down and forced to watch his best friend in the world suffer in the most horrible ways imaginable. He snapped his own wrist trying to pull free and help him. It's possible that the strain was just too much for his heart." She moved over to where her brother was sitting and put an almost protective hand on her brother's shoulder.

Prentiss came running up the stairs. "Forensics report," she said, waving a folder. She dropped it on the card table Trevor had set up. Hotch grabbed it.

"A few interesting things here. First, Teri, you were right. Josh Williams died of a heart attack. Here's the interesting thing: Jason Hagar died of a gunshot to the head."

"What?!" Teri demanded. "How the Hell did I miss that?!"

"Easy, girl," Morgan said, trying to smooth her professional pride. "This says it was a .22, and with all the superficial damage…we all missed it too."

"Besides, it doesn't fit the MO," Hotch told her. "You weren't looking for it."

Trevor turned to face her, and could see '_That's no excuse!'_ written clearly in her eyes. He pulled the other chair around to her, and she sat down, still troubled. "So why deviate?" She asked.

"Is he devolving?" Prentiss asked.

"I don't think so," said Reid, something in the file catching his eye. "According to the ME's report, Jason wasn't tortured as extensively as the other two victims."

"So," said Gideon, putting it all together. "When victim B died, there was no longer any reason to torture victim A."

Reid nodded. "So the unsub takes no pleasure in the physical torture. The psychological torture is the whole point of the murders."

"So what does that tell us?" Trevor asked.

Hotch stood up. "That gives us a solid victimology. JJ, time for a press conference."


	6. The First Big Clue

A/N: Sorry for the lack of serious action thus far, but I'm getting there. I hope to get to the good stuff in the next chapter. As always, R&R!

"Bureau of easy answers, how may I help you?" Penelope Garcia's voice chirped out of Morgan's cell phone.

"Hey, Baby girl," he said, her voice enough to put a smile on his face. "You got anything for me?"

"You know I do, my vision," she said with a grin.

"Let me rephrase," Morgan said. "Anything about the case?" Teri choked on her coffee, and she and Trevor shared a look, but the rest of the team was used to filling in the blanks of Morgan's one-sided conversations. Really, there was never any question as to what was being said.

"Is that his girlfriend?" Teri asked innocently, and JJ and Prentiss burst out laughing. The young deputy looked at them funny, but no one answered her. How do you explain Morgan and Garcia to this country girl? They didn't even have it figured out for themselves. Before they could come up with a satisfactory answer, Morgan snapped the phone shut.

"We got something," he said. "Teri, when you examined the body today-"

"Jimmy. His name was Jimmy."

Reid spoke up. "It's usually best not to refer to the victims by name if you knew them. It can interfere with-"

She whirled around to face him. "I don't give a rat's ass what is best! That man was my friend and my colleague, and I will not refer to him as 'the body'! How would you feel, Dr. Reid, if you had to work the case of agent Morgan's murder?"

Reid visibly flinched, and Morgan and Prentiss took involuntary steps backward. Hotch and Gideon's heads snapped up from the folders they were studying to stare at Teri. "Sis," Trevor began, but Morgan cut him off.

"No, Junior, your sister had her say, now it's our turn. We may have never been asked to work a colleague's murder, but we had to go through everything Josh had to. Every one of us, plus the girl I was on the phone with, had to watch while one of us was beaten, drugged, tortured, put through psychological hell, even died and was brought back through CPR. Somehow, he made it through alive, and is right here in this room. Can you tell me which one it was?"

The others looked at Morgan, but still met Teri's eyes as she scanned each of them. Then her eyes met her brother's and they did that weird almost-telepathic communication. He nodded his head in a general direction, and she nodded. Set in their decision, she turned back outside the cell to the pissed-off profiler who issued the challenge. "Agent Hotchner?"

Gideon and Hotch exchanged a glance that bordered on amused. "Why would you think it was Hotch?"

Trevor shrugged, and Teri thought about it for a second before answering. It was clear she was addressing Gideon, even though she was studying Hotch. "He seems to be the strongest, or at least toughest. I think he would be the hardest to break. No offense to the rest of you guys, he just seems so…"

"Untouchable," Trevor supplied.

Now Gideon actually smiled. "You'd be wrong. Morgan?"

Morgan was still pissed. "The one we were forced to watch as he was tortured was Dr. Reid. He was beaten, drugged, and tortured physically and psychologically and we were powerless to save him. He had to kill his attacker to get free, and I think you owe him an apology!"

Reid and Teri turned nearly identical shades of red, and they both stared at the floor in embarrassment, Reid because they were talking about him like he was some kind of hero or something, Teri because she had so blatantly not only stuck her foot in her mouth but on such a painful subject. Finally she covertly studied Reid. For all the crap she had given him, he seemed to be a truly sweet man and she couldn't imagine having to see him in pain. "Reid, I'm sorry. The rest of you guys too. I had no idea."

Hotch nodded. "You didn't know. Now, Morgan, did Garcia give you something or not?"

Morgan nodded, and just like that it was all business again. "Teri when you examined th- Jimmy- did you use gloves?"

She was bewildered by the question. "Of course I did. I may be young but I AM a professional."

"Okay," he said. "Did you use paramedic gloves or cop gloves?"

"Cop gloves," she said. "I'd never contaminate the scene with the powder from the gloves for the ambulance!"

"The report said there was residue from powered latex gloves. I thought you used the right gloves, but I had to ask. That means the unsub used the gloves. Garcia traced the composition of the powder to the Med-Tec company."

"Med-Tec?" asked Trevor. "The ambulance service uses them."

"So does the hospital," Teri added.

"Is there someone we can talk to at the hospital?" Hotch asked. "Someone who would know most of the people and could help us when we have a profile?"

Teri nodded, jumping to her feet. "Yeah!" She looked at Trevor. "Doc could help them, don't you think? And he knows about everyone at the hospital and ambulance service. You don't really think it's one of the ambulance service? There's only a few of us and I don't think-"

Hotch could see this wouldn't end well, so he cut her off. "We don't have enough to go on to make that determination. Why don't you take Morgan and Reid and introduce them to this doctor? What's his name, by the way?"

"Doctor Bobby Newswanger. He's the head of the ER and the medical director for the ambulance service," Trevor said.

"Definitely a good place to start," Morgan said, leaning against the bars, his anger either forgotten or forgiven. "That okay with you, kid?"

Teri nodded. "Let's rock and roll."


	7. Doc

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short. I tried to stretch it out, but it just wouldn;t cooperate. Plus, I wanted to post a chapter before I go out of town tomorrow, as I won't have internet access. I hope you enjoy this, and I will try to write a chapter to post when I get back to civilization. Merry Christmas! (All I want for Christmas are a few little reviews...?)

Trevor didn't say a word about his sister's driving, but Morgan watched his knuckles clench on the "holy crap" bar over the door. So, apparently a person doesn't get used to the maniacal driving. It only got worse with him in the cramped back seat of the truck with Reid. The younger man grabbed his arm when she turned a particularly sharp curve, and Morgan smiled grimly at him.

All three men breathed a silent sigh of relief as they pulled into the hospital parking lot. Teri didn't seem to notice or she was used to Trevor trying to hide his panic, so she didn't mention it. She just got out and headed for the glass double doors. The guys caught up with her when she stopped to enter the 5-digit code to open them. She turned to Morgan. "9-1-1-0-0, just in case you need to get in without me."

He nodded, and followed the girl and her brother into the ER. Morgan had been in hundreds of emergency rooms, but never one this small. Or this deserted. There was only one person there, a blond man sitting at the desk working a suduko puzzle. He looked up when the doors opened, and smiled at them. "Hey, kids! How's my favorite paramedic crew today? You have something for us? You didn't call in."

Trevor shook his head. "Not here with the ambulance today, Doc. Sheriff's business."

The doctor's smile faded, and he saw Morgan and Reid behind the Mitchells. He got to his feet, took off the wire-framed reading glasses he was wearing to work his puzzle and set them on the desk. Wiping his hands on his mismatched scrubs, he held his hand to the agents. "Bobby Newswanger. I sort of run the ER."

Morgan shook his hand first, then Reid. "Agents Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid, FBI."

"You're here about the murders?" He looked around. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? Have a seat." He sat back down and gestured to the rolling chairs sitting around the desk.

Morgan finally placed the doctor's accent. "You're from Chicago, aren't you?"

Doc smiled again. "That obvious?"

The agent nodded. "To someone else from the Windy City, you bet! Born and raised there myself."

"Really?" Doc asked. "I just moved here about a year ago. My younger brother was- Teri, put that down! It's worth more than your best ambulance!" Teri blushed and put down the fiber optic laryngoscope she had been playing with. Doc relented. "Tell you what, bring me in someone you haven't tubed yet that needs it and I'll let you use it, OK?" That seemed to satisfy her so she sat down and soon she and Trevor were deeply involved in a game of Spider on the computer. "Anyway, I moved here about a year ago. My little brother, Ben, lost both of his legs in Afganistan. It was just too much to try to handle in the city, so we moved out here. I take care of him, and we get along good here."

"Wow," said Morgan. "I'm sorry."

The doctor shrugged. "We play the hand we're dealt. That's what life is. So, what can I do to help you?"

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They were all exhausted at the day's end, and Reid and Morgan were just settling in to their room at the Clayton Lodge when there was a knock at the door. Morgan threw his t-shirt back on as Reid opened the door, one hand on his gun. He was stunned as he opened it to see Teri, Trevor, and Doc standing on the step. Trevor had a DVD player, Teri had a few DVDs, and Doc held three pizza boxes.

"Um…come in…?" Reid stammered."

Teri smiled. "Thought you guys could use a break. You said you'd never seen Lethal Weapon-"

"Which should be a cardinal sin!" Doc interjected

"-So we thought we'd give you a proper Clayton welcome," she finished. "Go get agent Hotchner and the girls, and let's eat!"


	8. Missing

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I finally made ot back from Dad's, and survived another week at work. Anyway, I hope you all have a merry Christmas, and remember, reviews make a great Christmas present!

Morgan woke up to someone pounding on the lodge door and shouting his and Reid's names. "What the-" He rolled over and sat up before the shouting came again.

"Reid! Morgan! Wake up, please! Teri's missing! Doc too! Hurry!"

Finally awake enough to comprehend, Morgan sprinted to the door. As he was unlocking it, Reid sat up, too. "Huh? Wha…?"

"Wake up, Reid. Teri's missing." He opened the door to see a very distressed-looking Trevor, his short red hair messy, wearing the same t-shirt he had on the night before.

Reid scrambled out of bed, pulling on his shirt and trying to button it straight. Trevor rushed in around Morgan, somewhere between 'all business' and terrified out of his mind'. "She and Doc were still here when I left last night, she was trying to unhook her DVD player, right? And then she was going to give Doc a ride home and come on from there."

Morgan nodded, confirming what he knew of the plan. "They were out of here not five minutes behind you."

Reid had succeeded in getting dressed, and ran his fingers through his hair and joined Morgan and the worried brother in the doorway. "What do you mean, missing?"

Trevor was pacing, frantically trying to get a grip on his emotions. He was trying to hard to be the Clayton County sheriff, but was looking so much like a frightened young boy. "I mean she didn't come home, she didn't show up for her shift at the ambulance service, Doc didn't show up at the hospital. She's two hours late, he's an hour. Teri has worked with bronchitis, pneumonia, she wouldn't even call in when she was septic after her tooth got infected. She hung the patient's IV fluid on one hook, her antibiotics from her PICC line on the other. If she's not there and she's not home, something is bad wrong!"

Morgan looked at Reid, who's eyes were wide with worry. "Go get Hotch and Gideon." Reid was on his way before the phrase was halfway out, leaving Morgan to help the young sheriff. "OK, Trevor, was Teri particularly close to either of the two victims?"

"Huh?" Trevor asked, confused enough to stop him in his pacing. "Not really. She went to high school with Robert and Jason, but they didn't travel in the same circles. What does that have to do with anything?"

Damn. He was going to have to explain the most hopeful theory, and Trevor wasn't going to go for it. "Well, you know how stressful this job can be. Maybe she just needed…a break?" It even sounded weak to his ears, it had to sound paper-thin to Trevor. Morgan had meant it to sound reassuring, instead, it just sounded condescending.

Yup, definitely condescending. "Hell no! She would NEVER just disappear during a case! We may look like little kids in your eyes, but we are both very dedicated! Maybe even more than our parents were, because we still have to prove ourselves to the likes of you people! We-"

"Easy, son," said Gideon, coming through the connecting door. "I'm sure Morgan didn't mean that she would. We just have to consider all possibilities. You're a cop too, you know he has to ask."

Trevor took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yeah. Go ahead. Do your FBI thing and help me find my sister. She's all the family I have left."

Hotch felt the wave of compassion he usually tried to suppress surge through him, and he put a hand on Trevor's shoulder. "Why don't you sit down?" He guided the boy to the nearby desk chair. Once he was settled, Hotch nodded for Morgan to continue.

"Does Teri have any place that she would go, maybe a friend she would stay the night with or something?"

Trevor looked hopeful. "Maybe! She could have stopped to see her friend Veronica. She goes to church with us and Doc. They could have stopped to visit and just gotten tired. Maybe they just overslept!" He pulled out his cell phone to call the woman. As he started to dial, his radio went off.

"Dispatch to Deputy Mitchell?"

Trevor's eyes widened. "I never thought of that! She'd never sleep through the radio!"

Behind Reid and Emily, Gideon whispered to Hotch, "Do you think she'll answer?"

Hotch shrugged. "I don't know." But he didn't have a good feeling about it.

There was radio silence for several moments. Bradley repeated his message, and still no answer. With trembling hands, Trevor keyed up the radio. "Bradley, this is Trevor. Teri hasn't been seen since last night."

Bradley was quiet for a moment, and keyed up again. "Trevor, you need to call dispatch."

Looking very much like a lost little boy, Trevor dialed his cell phone. He didn't even give a greeting when Bradley answered the phone, just listened. After a few minutes, he finally said, "OK. Thanks. Yeah, I'll keep in touch." He shut the phone and looked at Morgan. "They just found her truck. Crashed into a tree. No sign of her or Doc. Just a little bit of blood."

"No sign of them?" Reid asked.

Trevor shook his head. "None. Not even a…blood trail…to follow. Like they just disappeared."

Morgan got a sick feeling in his stomach. "Trevor, were Teri and Doc close?"

"What do you mean close? They're good friends, he's her mentor, we all go to church together. She'd like to go back to school and be a doctor, and he kinda took her under his wing. Are you suggesting there was more than that to their relationship? That they were…sleeping together…or something?" Morgan turned helplessly to Hotch, begging for a reprieve. He didn't want to say this to this boy. He was used to dealing with grieving families, but this was different. He had gotten to know Trevor, and did not want to suggest what he thought.

Hotch decided to bite the bullet and say it himself, had actually opened his mouth to do so, when the law enforcement official trumped the scared big brother and he put it together. Wide-eyed, he stared straight into Morgan's eyes. "You don't mean that, do you? You mean were they good friends. You mean, would it hurt him to see her in pain, don't you?" Tears filled his amber-colored eyes. "You think your unsub took my sister!"


	9. Paramedic Stuff

A/N: So sorry this has taken so long! On top of everything else that's been going on, the internet router has been messed up at Clay county and I feel like I've been there for a week. Plus I haven't slept for more than three hours at a time since last Thursday. Plus I had a serious allergic reaction at work and my own crew had to work on me. Plus I had a wreck and got the crap beat out of me (again) on a run. It's been a rough week. Please review, it will make me feel better. Oh...also, please pray for the real-life Doc Newswanger, who is a really wonderful person who specifically asked for the role he got in my story. He's leaving in the morning for Poland on a mission trip. It sounds dangerous, and I hope he's okay. Anyway, on with the story...

Trevor paced restlessly in the upstairs of the station. Gideon was scanning case files again, Morgan was muttering to himself, mentally replaying some of the scenes in hope of finding something, anything, that would help them find their new friends. JJ and Emily were handling the press, and Hotch…well, to the untrained observer, he seemed to be staring off into space, but his team knew he was really sorting through the few clues they had. So much of their jobs were cerebral, it sometimes seemed like they weren't doing anything when they were actually doing their best work.

Unfortunately, this is what it looked like to the distressed young sheriff. He continued his pacing until he went up to the far wall. There, he paused for a split second then pulled back his fist and punched the cinderblock wall. Morgan and Gideon were at his side instantly, Hotch only half a step behind. Reid winced, looking at Trevor's broken hand. Blood oozed from the scraped knuckles, and it had almost instantly turned blue and was swelling. Hotch took the wounded hand to examine it, prodding carefully around the misplaced bones. Trevor barely flinched. Reid looked around from one person to the next, and then said, "Uh…I'll go get one of the paramedics."

He turned toward the stairs, and Trevor called after him in a flat voice. "No use. Teri's our only paramedic. Got a couple of EMTs downstairs, but no medics."

Reid looked helplessly at Morgan, hoping in vain that his friend could help him get around his slip-up, but Morgan had nothing to say. There was nothing that could help right now, except finding the boy's sister and friend. Reid disappeared down the stairs.

Hotch, Gideon, and Morgan looked at each other, then at Trevor. None of them knew what to say. Finally, Trevor looked up from where the blood was dripping onto the grey tile. "Okay…"said Trevor. "So, now what?"

"Um…" Morgan said, "I'm thinking hospital."

It was almost as if Trevor hadn't noticed his injury until it was mentioned. He poked roughly at the swollen flesh and you could see the bones shifting under his fingers. Morgan turned pale, and Hotch felt his stomach roll. Gideon put an arm around Trevor, and led the boy toward the stairs. "I'll take you to the hospital. These guys will stay here and keep working."

"Working?" Trevor asked. "They're just sitting here!"

"Well, a lot of what we do-"

"Paramedics!" Reid exclaimed, running back up the stairs. All four men turned to look at him, confused.

"Uh, Reid," Hotch said. "There are no more paramedics. Teri…he doesn't need an ambulance anyway. It's just a broken hand!"

Reid didn't answer yet, just began digging through the case files looking for the paper he needed. Finally finding the picture, he waved it around as he talked way too fast. "Teri's a paramedic so she would have paramedic equipment but she's also the coroner so she doesn't always need paramedic stuff to say someone is dead if they're obviously dead

so-"

He was not doing such a good job with convincing them he hadn't come unhinged, so finally Morgan tried to calm him down. "Reid, when you're talking that fast, you lose us mere mortals. We know Teri's a medic, and the coroner. Now, what about the equipment?"

Reid took a deep breath and tried to slow the flood of his thoughts to a speed he could put into words. "We were with Teri when she found Jimmy. She just looked at him and could tell he was dead. She didn't do any paramedic stuff, just said that he was dead."

Trevor looked ready to kill. "You saw him! He was tortured and shot. She didn't need any 'paramedic stuff' to confirm it!"

Reid shook his head. This wasn't coming out right, and he was just pissing the sheriff off. "I know he was dead. I'm just establishing that she didn't hook him up to the…uh…defibrillator."

"Monitor," Trevor corrected automatically. "When it's checking for a heartbeat, it's a monitor, when it's shocking someone, it's a defibrillator."

"Okay. Anyway, she didn't. So who did?"

There was silence for a moment, then Hotch spoke up. "What?"

They gathered around Reid at the table, and he placed the rather gruesome post-mortem photo in front of them. He took an ink pen and drew three circles on the dead man's chest. "These are sticker marks. I've been trying to figure out what caused them, and it just hit me. ECG electrodes! Whoever did this…well…" He looked down again. "I haven't got the 'why' yet, I just figured out the 'what'."

"You did good, Reid," Morgan reassured him.

Trevor looked up at Gideon, almost like a scared little boy. "Will this help you guys find Teri?"

Gideon tried to put on his most reassuring smile. "It's the kind of thing we do. It's why you guys brought us here."

Trevor, though he may be young and scared, was not naïve enough to believe that was a real answer.

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The x-rays showed three broken bones in Trevor's hand. Gideon sat with him as they splinted it and made a cast out of something called ortho-glass. It was soft and flexible, then the doctor wet it, and as it dried, it became hard like a cast. The young man had been quite, but no longer seemed actively hostile against Gideon or his team. He just seemed exhausted.

"It doesn't seem right in here without Doc," he said suddenly. "I tried to pretend it was just his day off or something, not being held hostage by a psycho." Gideon nodded, knowing instinctively that Trevor needed to say more. Not to Gideon, but just to get it out. "I've been so worried about Teri that I haven't thought that much about Doc. I mean, she's not alone there. He's being tortured too. What do you think they're going through right now?"

Gideon hated that question. Absolutely despised it. What could he say? _This bastard is flaying off your sister's skin and burning her with acid while a very close friend watches her suffer. _Not a chance. But he couldn't lie to him. Any lie, no matter how well-intended, would be viewed as coddling the young sheriff, and would just make him angry. So he settled for the closest thing to the truth he could bear to say. "I don't know."

"I hope he doesn't know," Trevor went on, staring off into space.

"Hope he doesn't know what?" Gideon asked.

Trevor looked back at him, no longer looking so young or scared. He was not a kid, and had the grim expression of a seasoned law-enforcement officer. "Doc hates to see people in pain, especially his friends. When Teri sprained her back, he gave her pain pills, muscle relaxers, anti-inflammatories, and something for nausea. She slept for two days. I hope he has no idea about the profile. It'll be bad enough for him to have to watch her suffer. If he knows that it's all for his benefit, that he hurting her to hurt Doc... That's gotta be worse than death!"


	10. Ben Newswanger

Author's note: I am so sorry this has taken so long. It's been crazy and rough and everything, and also in a superstitious way I was almost afraid to post anything else on this until Doc was back in the country safe and sound, and did I mention it has been a little crazy? Anyone interested in hearing quite a story, PM me. I think most of you are more interested in what I'm doing to our friends at the BAU, so I'll shut up now and let them take over. Please review!

Morgan was amazed at how well Ben Newswanger was able to get around. He and Reid had arrived at the house he shared with his brother, Doc, to talk to the young man. It was doubtful that he would know anything about the abduction (It had been almost twelve hours, but until he saw a body, Morgan refused to think of it as murder). He had expected to see an invalid in a wheelchair. Instead, they were greeted at the door by a young man moving with a smooth, practiced motion on a pair of crutches. The young man had short hair the same pale blond as his brother's, longer than it must have once been for the army, but still short and spiked. Doc was thirty-two, so Morgan estimated Ben to be about 26. He looked anything but fragile even without his legs, muscled arms balancing him on the crutches. Every part of him was solid muscle, as opposed to Doc's slight frame. It was hard to picture Doc as the big brother. Ben still looked capable of snapping Reid in half, and giving Morgan a run for his money.

His smile broke the illusion that they were still talking to a hardened soldier. Like his older brother, when Ben smiled, he looked ten years younger. "You must be the Feds Bobby told me about. Have you found him? Is he okay?"

Morgan hesitated only a second, having temporarily forgotten that Doc had a given name, and that was all it took. The smile left Ben's face in an instant as he mistook the hesitation for bad news. "Oh, God! No! He's not…he can't be!"

Reid's eyes widened. "What? No! I mean, we haven't found him I-we…um…just had some questions for you."

Morgan had recovered from his momentary lapse, and said quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you think…that. I just-"

A grim smile that was only a shadow of the one from earlier crossed his face. "You've never heard him called Bobby before." He stepped back on his crutches, clearing the doorway and motioning for them to come in. They followed, Reid closing the door behind them.

"Only once," Morgan agreed.

"Twice," Reid put in. "Teri referred to him by name when Hotch asked, and then when he introduced himself…"

Morgan shot him a look that clearly stated 'not the time, genius', and he trailed off. The two of them followed Ben into the living room. "Surprises me that either of them would. Teri or Trevor neither one has called him anything but Doc since the day they met him, and he took to it quickly." He flopped down onto the sofa. "Have a seat. Want something to drink?" Before either of them could reply (and before either of them could process how Ben intended to get around on his crutches and carry drinks) Ben yelled, "Sara? Can you bring us some iced tea?" In a normal voice, he turned to them. "Iced tea okay? We have lemonade too…"

"No, that's fine," said Morgan. "Thanks." Reid thought about saying that he didn't like iced tea, but he figured now wasn't the time.

A lady in nursing scrubs came into the living room carrying a tray with three glasses on it. "Hi," she said. "Here's the tea." She ran an almost-maternal hand through Ben's spiky hair. "I'll be in here finishing the laundry."

When she was gone, Ben looked to the agents. "That's Sara. Bobby…Doc, if that's easier for you…hired her to come help me get around. Now that I don't need that much help, she mostly does stuff around the house, laundry and dishes and stuff. I've not gotten that good on these things yet, and Bob- Doc's not home enough to worry about it. He pretty much runs the ER, did you know that? He's the only full-time doctor they have. Plus being the medical director of the ambulance service."

"He sounds like a very busy man," said Morgan.

"And very focused," Reid agreed.

Ben nodded. "Yeah. He is. I'm just so glad he can focus on medicine again. It has always been what makes him happiest."

Morgan took a sip of his tea, and shuddered. It was strong enough to stand up without a glass. He discretely put it down, and when Ben was looking the other way, he made a covert motion to Reid, signaling to steer clear of it. "Again?" said Reid. "He wasn't focused on medicine for a while?"

Ben looked down. "When I got hurt, things changed, of course. We moved out here to the middle of nowhere. He took several months off when we first got here, and just about drove me nuts." He smiled almost wistfully. "I know he was just trying to take care of me. But he was just so angry."

Morgan was confused. "Angry?" He couldn't picture the gentle man who had joked with the Mitchells and tossed popcorn into Teri's mouth from five feet away the night before being angry enough to make an impression on the wounded soldier.

Ben nodded. "He would have nights when he would just go into a rage. He would try his best to hide it from me. He bought a .9 mm pistol, and would go out back and shoot at the target he put up for an hour or so. He would go downstairs and beat the punching bag until his hands bled. He even talked about joining the army himself. Said he wanted to go over there and kill every raghead he could find." Ben was back to staring at the spot on the floor. "But he's so much better now. The Mitchells helped him a lot, brought him back into reality. He went back to practicing about six months ago, and he met them. He slowly stopped being so angry, and about a month ago, he was back to being his old self."

"What was he so angry about?" Reid asked. "Just you being hurt, or the change in lifestyle, or what?"

Morgan winced at the way his friend had worded the question, but Ben didn't seem to notice. "There was an ambush. That's how I got hurt. One of the men who helped plan it was in our custody at the time. He knew all about it, and laughed as it was going down. Bobby thought we should have been able to get the information out of him and prevented the whole thing."

Morgan looked up sharply to meet the former soldier's eyes. "Torture? You're brother thought the guy should have been tortured?"

Ben nodded. "He was just upset, because it was me that got hurt. He didn't think that our interrogation techniques were enough." He finally met Morgan's eyes again. "Look, don't hold it against him. Do you have any siblings?"

"Two sisters," Morgan replied.

Ben shrugged. "Well, think how you would feel if one of them got maimed, and you felt like someone could stop it."

Morgan bit his lip. "I'd feel like killing someone."

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Gideon was at the nurses desk making a phone call when Trevor's cell phone rang. He fumbled for it for a moment with his broken hand before getting it open. "Trevor," he said, trying to sound both strong and official.

"Kid, it's me," a broken voice said. "It's Doc. Listen to me. We don't have time to screw around, okay?"

Trevor nodded, then realized Doc couldn't see him. "Ok." He wanted to ask more, wanted to know if Teri was okay, but he trusted Doc. He would know soon.

"We're safe now," said Doc. "We got away. But I'm hurt bad and Teri's worse. We're right outside, around the dumpsters, but I can't carry her anymore. You have to come help us."

It took all Trevor's resolve not to sob with relief. "Ok. I'll tell Gideon, and we'll be right there!"

"No!" Doc exclaimed. "We don't have time. She's bleeding badly. Trevor, she might die! I can't tell for sure, but he may have nicked her spleen. Hurry! It'll take too long to explain it."

"Ok," said Trevor jumping to his feet. "I'm on my way. Do I need any supplies?"

"She needs an OR, kid! Now hurry!" The phone beeped in Trevor's ear as Doc disconnected."

Seeing Gideon still absorbed in his phone call, Trevor raced toward the back door. The heavy door slammed behind him as he ran to the dumpsters. "Teri!" he called. "Doc? Where are you?!"

He felt a sting in his shoulder, and fell to the ground as his entire body became paralyzed.


	11. The Unsub

A/N:Hey! Yes, I finally updated, and you should all thank Deanna Stevenson for poking me with a stick and getting me to update amidst a nebula of three jobs, a mess with my husband, and a full church schedule. Sorry it's so short, but I have a broken hand and I haven't slept in three days. So, enjoy, review, gripe at me for being slow and lazy...just let me know you're still out there!

Trevor felt himself being pulled into the back of the van and thrown roughly onto the floor before he saw his attacker, but when he did, it hit him harder that the succynlcholine flowing through his body. He couldn't move, he couldn't talk, couldn't even breathe, but his eyes bored into Doc's, demanding an explaination.

Doc wasted no time. The paralytic he had given Trevor also paralyzed the muscles that allowed him to breathe. He raised a bag-valve mask over the boy's face and forced two breaths into his lungs, then reached for the laryngoscope. Trevor could only watch in horror. He had seen both Teri and Doc intubate dozens of people. They were both very good at it. But he had seen it go wrong a lot of times, had seen the blade come out covered in blood, had seen people vomit and aspirate and a lot of complications. Somewhere deep inside, it occurred to him that if Doc was the one killing people he had a lot worse to worry about than an intubation gone wrong, but this was something he knew about. The future would have to wait.

It didn't hurt as bad as he expected, and Doc was the best. There was a reason this man was his sister's mentor, and just as the inability to breathe was getting unbearable, Doc secured the tube and hooked him to the portable ventilator. Then Doc looked down at his newest victim with something resembling compassion as he prepared enough of the drug to keep him paralyzed throughout the short trip. "I'm sorry, Trevor. I didn't want you guys to be part of this. But I didn't have a choice. Teri figured it out. And I couldn't just kill her. You both mean too much for me to kill one of you without it having any meaning."

_You're crazy!_ Trevor thought. _Completely off your rocker! We trusted you!_

But of course, he couldn't speak.

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Hotch, Prentiss, and JJ raced through the doors of the ER, pausing only long enough to enter the security code Teri had told them about. Gideon was pacing in front of the nurses station, agitated. Morgan rushed up to him. "What happened?"

Gideon shrugged. "I have no idea! I was talking to Hotch on the phone, then I looked up and he was gone. Security found his cell phone by the back door. There was a call received from Teri's cell phone just before he disappeared."

"The unsub?" Prentiss asked.

Gideon nodded grimly. "Has to be."

Hotch closed his eyes and tried to think. Suddenly, they were the only law enforcement in town. The sheriff and deputy, the coroner and deputy, were both gone. Teri and Trevor were crucial to the investigation. How could they find them without them to help?

His thoughts were interrupted as his cell phone rang. "Hotchner."

"Hotch, it's Morgan. I've got three missed calls from you and four from Gideon. What's going on? Have you found them?"

"No, it's not good news. Trevor's gone."

"Gone! What do you mean gone?"

"He disappeared from the ER. Gideon was on the phone, and when he turned around he was gone."

Morgan swore under his breath, and Reid was instantly at alert. "How could he be abducted from the ER?!"

"Trevor?" Reid asked. Morgan nodded, and Reid winced.

Prentiss, Gideon and JJ were back at Hotch's side, so he said, "Morgan, I'm going to put you on speaker." He hit the buttons and looked around. The ER was nearly empty, but there was a young child asleep in his mother's lap in one room and a drunk vomiting in another. He nodded toward an empty trauma room and the team followed him.

"Hospital security found his cell phone. Apparently he got a call from Teri's cell phone. She must have been forced to lure him outside."

"That means she must be still alive," JJ said.

"There's something I don't understand," said Prentiss. "The unsub already had Teri and Doc. Why would he take Trevor? He's never taken three victims at once!"

The gut feeling Morgan had bee grappling with finally solidified. He had been hoping he was wrong. Really, really hoping he was wrong. But he didn't think so. "Well, I think I have an answer for that, but you aren't going to like it." He stopped, trying again to find a way to make the pieces fit to form a different picture, but they just didn't fit any other way.

"Morgan?" said Gideon. "What have you got?"

"We just spent two hours talking to Doc's brother. There's a lot we didn't know about him. I hope I'm wrong. But I don't think I am. I don't think that the unsub has three victims. Teri and Trevor are the victims. Doc is the unsub."


	12. Gathering Data

Sorry this has taken so long, but this is a little long, so maybe it's worth it. Anyway, things have been crazy as usual in the world of EMS, so I haven't had much time to write. This chapter is dedicated to the real Doc Newswanger, who loves what I did with his character. Enjoy, and please review! Reviews make new chapters come faster!

Trevor was duct taped securely to the chair by the time the paralytic began to wear off and he started fighting the ventilator

Trevor was duct taped securely to the chair by the time the paralytic began to wear off and he started fighting the ventilator. When he heard the whistling sound it was making, Doc was at his side immediately. "Okay, Trevor, I know you've seen me do this before. I deflate the cuff, and you cough while I pull the tube out. Got it?"

Still unable to talk with the tube between his vocal cords, he nodded as much as his weakened muscles would allow. He could see Teri lying unconscious on a metal table across from him. Doc smoothly extubated him and Trevor gagged and coughed as it came out. "Wha-" he croaked, trying to talk.

"Hang on," said Doc, reaching for a bottle of water sitting nearby. "Here, drink some of this. It will help."

Helplessly, Trevor drank from the bottle raised to his lips. It actually did help, and he was able to speak. "What the Hell are you doing?! What did you do to Teri? Is she okay? Let me go!"

Doc looked pained. "Trevor, I'm so sorry. I didn't want any of this to touch you two. I tried to steer you away from this, but your sister just had to be smart. She tries so hard to prove herself, and this time she just managed to do it. She figured it out, like I told you. I tried to get her to help me, but she wouldn't. She didn't understand that I have to do this. She would understand, though. If it was you."

Trevor realized then just how badly off his rocker his friend was. This was bad. Unless there was some way the FBI guys could pull off some of their magic, he and Teri were screwed. The best thing he could do was stall. "Doc, explain it to me. Maybe I'll understand." He suddenly remembered what Gideon had said. "Is this about Ben? Tell me. I'll understand. We're both brothers, right? We both have someone to protect."

Doc almost smiled. "Of course. I can't put you through this without you knowing why. I tried to explain it to Teri, but she just couldn't understand." He pulled up a chair, and if Trevor could forget that he was taped down and Teri was unconscious, they could have been sitting in the ER discussing a bad run. Doc could be telling him that he and Teri did everything they could, and that sometimes people just die, and that they should go have their post-code ice cream and just accept that sometimes death wins.

Doc's next sentence and the matter-of-fact way that he stated it shattered Trevor's fantasy of normality and told him beyond the shadow of a doubt that his friend was gone. If this man had ever been the Bobby Newswanger he had known. "They told me it was the only way to keep what happened to Ben from happening to others. Out of all the doctors in the world, the army chose me to help them."

"The army?"

"Yeah," Doc said, serious as he had ever been. "It's all top secret, but I guess I can tell you. I trust you two. Besides, neither of you will be getting out of here alive, so it doesn't matter. I just want you to know what you're dying for. You and your sister's sacrifice will save so many soldiers. You'll be heroes."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gideon was absolutely sick. How could he have lost the county sheriff in a hospital emergency room? But he had no idea the unsub was looking for another victim. There was no reason to suspect that the boy had been in any danger. _"That's no excuse!"_ the little voice in his head nagged him.

If what Morgan was saying, that Doc was the unsub, they at least had a little hope that The Mitchell siblings could talk their way out of it. They were very close to Doc. Sometimes that humanity was enough, the simple connection. But not often.

JJ was handling the local press, not identifying Doc as a suspect yet, simply stating that all three of them were missing. Reid and Morgan were talking to Ben again, hoping to gain some insight. Prentiss was discretely interviewing hospital staff. Hotch was coordinating all of them from the jail. Bradley, who had been the secondary deputy to both Mitchells, as both sheriff and coroner, had called in a part-time dispatcher and was suddenly thrust into the middle of the chaos as the temporary sheriff. And coroner, but Gideon didn't want to think it would come to that.

There was little for either Gideon or Bradley to do other than go through the files. Both were going stir-crazy, wishing for something tangible to do. Finally Gideon stood up to get some coffee. "Going for some rocket fuel," he told the young man. "Want some?"

"Nah," said Bradley, holding up a bottle of Mountain Dew. "I'm good. Thanks though."

Gideon sat back down, thinking that there wasn't enough sugar in the world to make this coffee drinkable, when he noticed Bradley staring off into space. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Bradley had a wistful smile. "The last time I was in charge of the county like this was a year ago. Teri and Trevor went to North Carolina to visit their cousin, and I was running things. They probably weren't even unpacked when the BLS crew brought in Mitch, the old man who walked around town all the time. He fell over dead in the park. Doc and the ER crew worked him for almost an hour, but couldn't get him back. Doc hadn't been here for more than a month or so, and I had no clue what I was doing. Mitch didn't have any family, and I was totally at a loss as to what to do, where to take him, and all that. Anyway, one of the nurses made the comment 'Looks like we got the B team for the week'. Doc kinda laughed and said, 'No, the B team is out of town too. We got the junior varsity bench'."

Gideon chuckled. "You didn't take offense?"

Bradley laughed. "Would the Clayton Tigers take offense to someone saying they'd get creamed by the '92 Chicago Bulls? Heck, no. Teri and Trevor are the best." He paused and all traces of laughter left his face. "I hope they're all right."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So They told me that if I could find a way to get information out of them without 'harming' anyone we might have to return in one piece. I couldn't physically torture them, but I still had to cause enough pain to make them give in. So I thought back to the most painful thing that had ever happened to me."

"Ben getting hurt?" Trevor asked, trying hard to keep his voice even. As someone who grew up in law enforcement, he knew the difference between a general nutcase and a true psychopath. And unfortunately, Doc fell into the latter category. He genuinely believed the delusions he was acting on, and would not be dissuaded from it.

"Exactly!" Doc said. "Watching him suffer was the worst thing I can imagine. I would have done anything, told anyone anything, sold out everything I believed in to stop him from hurting. So I told Them my plan, and They said to gather sufficient data. So…"

Trevor's mind was reeling. "So you've been gathering data. Are things turning out the way you thought?"

Doc turned to the desk behind him and got his laptop. "It's all right here. I have ECG, pulse, blood pressure, on both subjects. I wish I had EEG reports, but I couldn't get that out as easily as I could the Life-Pak. Anyway, it proves beyond a doubt that the one forced to watch someone they care about be tortured experiences more distress than the one actually in pain."

Terror and adrenaline flooded him, but there was nothing he could do. He could hear the capital "T" in "They" and "Them". He was no profiler, but it didn't take one to see that Doc had separated from reality. "I understand. So, how much more data do you need?"

Doc's eyes flashed suddenly. "Do you mean, how many more do I have to kill? As many as it takes to keep people like my brother safe! Now, enough with the explanations…Time to get down to business." He paused, as he began hooking up the Life-Pak leads to Trevor's chest. "This is actually going to be very hard on me. I don't want to do this." He met Trevor's eyes imploringly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt either of you." Attaching the last lead, he frowned. "I wonder if I should take telemetry on myself as well. This is going to hurt me too. I don't want to have to hurt Teri. But They say I have to."

He stepped over to the table Teri lay on, and Trevor squirmed helplessly in his bonds, unable to stop the man who he once considered a friend or rescue his sister.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gideon jumped as Hotch's hand fell on his shoulder. He wasn't aware that he had dozed of. "Come on," Hotch said. "Turns out Doc owns two buildings outside town. Morgan and Reid are on their way to one, we'll check out the other."


	13. The rescue Party

A/N: You guys still out there? Sorry it's been so long...the original readers' grandchildren must have picked up on this by now. Sorry. Anyway, Clay county's internet router's down, it's been a crazy few weeks, my crew has been in and out of more messes than the BAU team, and I'm just generally exhausted. I hope you enjoy it, and please review!

Tears flowed unchecked down Trevor's face, and his whole body ached in sympathy with his sister's agony, as well as with the exertion of trying to break free. Teri had awakened when Doc had injected something (probably Narcan, the paramedic student side of Trevor's brain interjected) into her IV port, and she had started struggling even more than he was.

"Teri," Doc had spoken calmly to her, brushing her hair back from her face in a tender gesture, much as he had when she had pneumonia and had been burning up with fever. Of course, he had been the one to treat her, All three of them camping out in the ER for three days, as Teri didn't have any insurance and begged him not to admit her. It still couldn't compute with Trevor that the same man had now doing these terrible things to his sister.

"Teri, honey, I'm so sorry. You know I don't want to do this." Eyes wide, she shrieked something behind the tape over her mouth, and he met her gaze with compassion-filled eyes. "I'd never hurt you if I had the choice, but They say I have to kill you. They say this project is too important to be stopped."

He took the scalpel and made a shallow but long incision from her wrist to elbow. She squirmed and made a pitiful sound through the tape. And Trevor finally snapped his composure. "Stop it! Just stop! If you're going to kill her, kill her! Stop hurting her!"

Doc turned to his uninjured captive, face twisted in rage. "Just kill her? You want me to kill your sister? What kind of man are you?!"

Trevor's voice broke under the emotional overload he was suffering. "I just don't want her to hurt anymore!"

Doc stepped over and backhanded Trevor, snapping is head back against the chair. "Then you want her to die for nothing! She's spent her life willing to die for others, now that she has her chance, you want me to just kill her? She has the chance to save countless lives, and you want to take that from her!"

Trevor had too much. He was crying so hard he could barely speak. "Then kill me! I can't watch you hurt her anymore. I can't take it!"

Shaking his head, Doc regarded his friend like he was seriously considering the proposal. "If I could put you out of your misery, I would. But without you, her pain is pointless."

He tried to compose himself for one last try. "Doc, I know you care about us. You've been like family to us. Why would you do this to me? Why would you want me to suffer like you did? You said watching Ben hurt was the worst thing you'd ever been through. Why would you want me to go through that?"

Doc winced. "You know I wouldn't choose this. But if I have to kill you two, I can at least let you be a part of this project. I just need a little more data."

Trevor threw himself forward against his bonds, nearly toppling the chair. When he was unable, he slumped, sobbing. "I give! You want data, you win this round! If I had something you wanted, I'd tell you anything! I WILL tell you anything! Just end it! Your plan works! Tell the army! I'll tell the army! Tell the freakin' president for all I care, just end it!"

Doc wasn't quite sure what he was going to say to that, but before he could, he froze. "Did you hear that?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

Trevor shook his head. He hadn't heard anything, but maybe the FBI was there to rescue them. Or maybe the psycho trying to kill them was hearing things. It was hard to be positive right at the moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hotch and Gideon found the small empty building easily. In a past life, it had been some kind of computer company headquarters, purchased by Robert Newswanger six months earlier. Gideon walked slowly up to the front door, watching as Hotch disappeared around the building, looking for the back door. Giving him a few moments to find it, he paused before he slipped quietly inside.

There was a maze of hallways inside, each leading to small office rooms. Gun drawn, he carefully searched each one. Deeper into the building, he could hear muffled crying. Instantly on the alert, he eased toward it. Suddenly, he heard a masculine yell. A loud struggle came from farther down the hallway. He hurried in that direction.

When he turned a corner, he froze. There wasn't much light in the back, but he saw what he needed to clearly. Doc had Hotch by the throat, syringe poised above his jugular. Hotch looked weak and confused, and a drop of blood trailed down his neck. It appeared as if the doctor had already somewhat sedated him. Only the hand on his throat seemed to be keeping him upright. Gideon's gun was drawn, but Doc's eyes never wavered from his. "Potassium Chloride," he said conversationally. "A swift but very, very painful death. And I assure you that he is nowhere near out of it enough not to feel every second. Drop your weapon."

Gideon tried to look into Hotch's eyes for any hint of a plan, but he was so badly addled that he couldn't even look up. Helpless to do anything else, he dropped his gun.


	14. Gideon and Hotch

Note: Hey, again sorry for taking so long. Between work and church events, its been really really busy. Hope you enjoy it, and please pray for the real Doc. He and some of our people are again in Poland on mission trip. Last time they went I didn't know how dangerous it was and Doc hadn't practically adopted me as his own kid. I'm sure God will look out for them, but our prayers can't hurt. enjoy, please review, and I'll try to be quicker if there are still people reading this!:)

Hotch was starting to come around, and through his blurry vision saw Gideon slumped over in a chair opposite him. He wasn't clear on how they got there, but it was obvious to just about anyone that this was not good. "Gi-" His voice failed him, and he had to clear his throat and try again. "Gideon? Jason, wake up! Are you okay?"

Gideon stirred, but did not awaken. Hotch squirmed in his seat, trying to twist free of the duct tape holding him at the wrists, biceps, chest, ankles, and knees. It was no use. He was stuck. There was nothing to do but wait.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much time to wait. Doc opened the door, and strolled in. Ignoring both his captives, he slipped on a pair of gloves and absently wiped a streak of blood from Gideon's forehead with a piece of gauze. Glancing over, he noticed Hotch was awake. "Hey, you woke up quick. Pity. It makes it that much worse for you."

"What?" Hotch asked. "I've seen what you did to the other victims. I don't think there's much that can make it worse."

Doc seemed to consider it. "Physically, you're right. But think about it. You know what's coming. I still have some preparation before we get started, and you just have to sit there, waiting." He winced, looking sympathetic. "I'll hurry. There's no need to put you through the mental torture too."

_Too?_ That could not be good. So he was the physical one, Gideon was the one forced to watch. Hotch felt sick to his stomach. Was it a lucky guess, or was Doc on the level of a profiler? It would hurt Hotch beyond measure to have to watch Gideon suffer for the purpose of evoking a reaction from him. But it would absolutely destroy the older man. It seemed that Gideon was always the one having to watch those he cared about suffer. He got there too late to save his girlfriend from Frank. Reid through first the Tobias Henkle ordeal then the struggle with drugs. His team in Boston. Assuming they survived it (you always have to assume you'll survive), this might be the final blow that would shatter the already cracked and battle-scarred psyche. Hotch clenched his fist tightly and vowed that he wouldn't make this horrific ordeal they were about to endure any tougher on his friend.

Of course, he knew he was deflecting, focusing on his friend's impending trauma rather than his own, but there were certain ingrained coping mechanisms in the human mind and they were there for a reason. Because they worked.

Doc finished hooking the ECG leads to Gideon and began working on Hotch, carefully cutting away the white button-up shirt with trauma shears. There was a spot of blood on the blades, and Hotch thought he recognized them as the shears tucked into Teri's belt the last time she had been seen. The thought slammed home to him, and he remembered what they had been doing there. "Teri and Trevor? Are they dead?"

An unreadable look crossed Doc's face, and that shook Hotch a little. He didn't like things he couldn't read. "No," Doc replied. "They're not dead. I haven't finished yet. You guys showed up, and…well, they're waiting for me to get done."

"Are they conscious?" A new voice spoke from behind them. Gideon cleared his throat as Hotch had to strengthen his voice. "Are they waiting somewhere in pain while you mess with us?"

Doc scowled at him. "What do you think I am? Some kind of monster?" His voice rose with rage. "Do you think I'm doing this for _fun_? I hate hurting people, but it's the only thing I can do to help! I didn't want to hurt Teri and Trevor, or any other people from my town. It hurt me as much as it did them!" The coldness settled back into his blue eyes, replacing the pain and regret. "You guys, though…I might enjoy this." He picked up a scalpel, flipped it around in his fingers, and stepped over to Hotch. "You're the ones who led Teri to figure it out. It's your fault I had to hurt them. Yeah, I might enjoy this…"

Without warning, he stepped up and jammed the scalpel into Hotch's side. Despite the promise he had made to himself about making it easier on Gideon, he could not keep back a small cry. It wasn't the scream that was threatening to emerge, but it brought an equally distressed cry from Gideon. Hotch struggled to get away as Doc drove three quick punches to the undamaged side of Hotch's abdomen, driving the air from his lungs. Another punch fell in the right side of his rib cage, and he groaned as the bones splintered.

He paused in the assault to check his data. "Great!" he said, clapping his hands. You guys are doing great! These readings are perfect!"

"What is this about? Why do you have to do this?" Gideon implored. "Why is it important?"

"I don't have time!" he exclaimed. "I don't have time to get into it! It just has to be done! I have to help!" He swung another punch at Hotch's ribs and reached for the table. "I have to finish. You guys and the Mitchells are the last. Then it'll be over and they'll be safer!" He picked up a taser from the table, placed it on Hotch's sternum. The electricity shot through his body, and he spasmed wildly in his bonds.

Tears streamed down Gideon's face at watching his friend, his protégé in such pain. Watching Reid go through the Henkle ordeal had been bad enough through the video feed, but this…sitting here in the room, watching this bastard torture Hotch was unbearable. He fought valiantly to free himself, but the tape held tight. Then a burst of inspiration hit. Josh Williams and Jimmy Hagar. If the one who was watching died, he killed the other. So if the one watching passed out…maybe he would stop for a while. Buy the others some time to find them. As Doc zapped Hotch again with the taser, Gideon slammed his head against the back of the chair. Hard. Then again. And again.


	15. Code

I know, it has been forever, you guys have probably forgotten all about this by now and I'm very sorry. The only excuse I have is that I just got lost. I couldn't figure out what to do with this. I didn't want to just drop it, but I couldn't figure out how to get to the ending. I only hope a few of you are still out there and will let me know. Please review, even if it's just to berate me for leaving you hanging for 7 months...

Gideon's vision was fading, bright spots sparkling around the edges. The pain in his head was getting unbearable, but anything was better than just sitting there watching what this man was doing to Hotch. As he was about to slam it again for the sixth time, when he heard a shout. His first thought was that it was Hotch, but he instantly knew it wasn't. A female voice, from the other room. Teri…

"Help! Please, someone help! He's dying!"

Doc dropped the scalpel and cursed. He started for the door, and paused for a second to turn back to his captives. "Be right back," he promised, sounding like a business associate rather than their torturer. Then he ran back to the other room to where Teri was screaming from.

The girl was struggling frantically in her bonds, blood trailing down to her arms and lubricating the tape somewhat. Trevor was slumped over in his chair, very pale, sweat pouring off him. "What happened?" He demanded, in full doctor mode.

"His sugar! He hasn't eaten! Doc, you know he's diabetic!"

He stared at the girl for a moment. "No. No, I didn't. Why didn't either of you tell me?" He pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and sliced through the sweat-coated tape and pulled the unconscious young man from the chair, laying him gently in the floor.

Teri watched closely. "He didn't want people to know. He didn't want to seem weak. Trying to prove himself, you know. I thought he told you." She watched as he checked for a pulse, first in the wrist, then in his neck. That wasn't good. "Doc, help him. Please!"

Grabbing an orange bag, he glanced at the monitor. Sinus bradycardia. Not good. "I'm doing my best. Gotta get an IV. I know you have some fluids here somewhere…" He dug frantically in Teri's medic bag, which he had grabbed from the truck when he had forced her into the crash. "Where are they?"

"Let me loose! I'll help you. He needs both of us!" She pleaded. "It's just like that diabetic Trevor and I brought in last month. She needed all three sets of hands, and she still died. Don't let my brother die!" she sobbed. "Let me help! I won't run away, I swear. You know I won't leave Trevor. You know it, Doc!"

He paused only a fraction of a second, then got to his feet. He very quickly sliced through tape holding her and helped her to her feet. As severely wounded as she was, she stumbled to her brother's side. Promptly grabbing the IV fluids from her bag, she spiked the line and got it ready as Doc tried to find a site. She grabbed the other hand and looked for the vein she knew was there. He had been her practice dummy through paramedic class. "I got it!" She said. "Give me a 14 gauge."

As if they were back in the ER the three of them had called home for the last six months, he placed the needle in her hand. "Tape," she instructed. "And get the D50."

"I'm the doctor!" He said with a smile. "Aren't I supposed to give the orders?"

Forgetting the last 24 hours completely, she fell back into the routine banter she had shared with this man. "We're on the floor. This is paramedic territory. Line's in. D50."

He had popped the large syringe together and handed it to her, but they were interrupted by the beeping from the monitor. "V-tach!" Doc yelled, grabbing the paddles from the Life-Pak. "Clear?" he asked, and Teri pulled her hands back as her brother's body jerked violently under the current. "Damn, flatline! Kid, start CPR!"

Teri threw herself into the familiar motions of manually circulating blood through Trevor as Doc fumbled with another syringe. "Epi in," he said more to himself through the routine of working the code, but Teri checked her watch anyway. "19:43."

He got another syringe, and repeated the procedure. "Atropine in. 19:44"

Tears continued to flow from Teri's eyes. "Doc, we gotta call for an ambulance. We can't do this."

He looked away and grabbed another syringe. "We can do this. D50 in. 19:45. Keep going, circulate the sugar. Do you want to intubate him or should I?"

The reality of the situation finally sunk in to her. "You're insane! This is Trevor! We have to get him help! You did this to him!" She could barely restrain herself from choking him with her bare hands. She might have done it if her hands hadn't been busy. He was ventilating the young sheriff with the bag-valve mask from her bag as she continued chest compressions.

"He'll come out of it, just keep going. He'll be fine."

Pure hatred shot through her eyes, but she didn't pause in trying to save her brother's life. "More epi," she said, rather than letting go with what she wanted to.

Just as he reached for the syringe, the door busted open. Morgan and Reid burst in, guns drawn. "FBI! Nobody move!"

They took in the scene, Doc holding the second dose of Epinephrine, and Morgan yelled, "Drop it!"

Teri growled at them. "Put the guns down! He's trying to help Trevor! Go check on Gideon and Hotch. And call a freakin' ambulance!"

Morgan and Reid exchanged a confused glance. "But we thought- I mean, didn't he…"

Teri was in determined paramedic mode, and didn't have the patience to explain. "Yes, he did. Yes, he is your unsub, he's the killer. But right now he's a doctor and he's trying to help me save my brother. If he does, I may arrest him instead of killing him right here. Now stop messing around and call the damn ambulance!"

They finally lowered their guns. "Uh…" Reid started to ask, but Morgan beat him to it. "I got this. You go check on Hotch and Gideon."

"They're in the back!" Doc called, almost as an afterthought, injecting the epi into the port on the IV. He forced in another two breaths, then put his fingers to Trevor's neck. "I got a pulse!"

Reid jogged back, eyes wide, blood streaked down one side of his face. "We're gonna need at least two ambulances! Maybe more. They're both hurt back there."

Teri looked up from the heart monitor where she had been enjoying the sight of her brother's heartbeat. "Not in Clayton! Best to just get them to the vehicles by now. We can put Trevor in the back of the van, your guys up front. That work?"

Reid nodded, and hurried back to his friends. Morgan pulled out his handcuffs and walked over to Doc. "Robert Newswanger, you're under arrest for murder. Anything you say can and will be used against you…"

He continued to read him his rights until he started to pull him to his feet, then Teri shot him a look that could melt Kryptonite. "What the Hell are you doing?!"

Morgan looked at her like she had lost it. "Um… arresting the murderer?"

"No cuffs!" She exclaimed.

"What?! He's killed 6 people, tortured 4 more. He needs to be transported in a tiny cage in the back of you truck, but I'll settle for what's legal."

Unwilling to leave Trevor's side, even if he was breathing on his own, she glared up at Morgan, daring him to keep protesting. "Right now, he's the only doctor we have. And unless you want to make that count 7 and 3, you'll leave him free to help me!"

Morgan couldn't argue with that, but as bad as he wanted to check on Gideon and Hotch, he wasn't about to leave her alone with him. Though he wasn't sure who's safety he fear for, Teri's of Doc's…


	16. Picking up the Pieces

A/N: Finally! After all this time, this story is officially finished. I hope it turned out as well as I planned, I hope the end doesn't seem stupid, and I hope it is somewhat believable. To Doc, who thoroughly enjoyed being written as the bad guy, to my crew who are so sick of me bouncing ideas off them this week they could strangle me, but most of all for you guys for sticking with me so long. Sorry, and if you're masochistic enough to read anything else I write, I'll try not to let that happen again. Please review, even if it's just to say "Stick to one-shots!"

Six hours later, Teri sat at her brother's bedside. It had taken 48 stitches to close all her wounds, her six broken ribs were taped, and her wrists bandaged, and the doctor called in to work had been amazed that she had been able to even go through the motions of CPR, let alone do it effectively with all her injuries. She held his hand, talked to him, but she was past the point of being able to cry. He had been dead, had no heartbeat, had to be shocked. She and Doc had saved him.

But Doc had been the one to do this to him. And to her. But he had changed his mind, he had let her go, had saved Trevor. What did that mean? Their friend had killed six people. Had intended to kill them. Had seriously injured one of the FBI agents. Plus Agent Gideon's concussion… She watched Trevor's chest rise and fall under the thin hospital sheet. She was too tired, too hurt, just too damn _spent_ to think about it anymore. She slipped down further in the chair and curled up, pulling a pitiful excuse for a blanket up around her chin, still holding his hand.

"You awake?" a voice whispered from the doorway. She opened her eyes to see Reid standing there.

She sat up a little straighter. "Yeah, I'm awake. "How's Agent Hotchner? I'm sorry I didn't check on him back there, but…"

Reid shook his head. "28 stitches, cuts, bruises, nothing major. And don't worry about it. Triage. Severity of condition. Trevor was your priority."

Teri nodded. "If Hotchner had been worse, I would have gone to him first. I swear."

He smiled. "I know. You're a professional, Teri. You would have done what was right."

"Doc?"

Reid sat down. "He was sent to the psychiatric unit at Hazard. He…wasn't in touch with reality."

She nodded. "He thought the Army was telling him to do these things. To protect soldiers like Ben from being hurt."

"That's right. I'm so sorry."

"So why did he stop?"

Reid was afraid she would ask that. He absolutely hated not having the answer, but he honestly didn't know. And he wasn't sure if she wanted to know what he thought. But she was waiting patiently, so he had to say it. "Very rarely, when a person is having a complete psychotic break, they can be reached by someone they care about. That's why they call in loved ones when a situation is devolving."

Teri looked at him and for the first time, her professional demeanor slipped. In that moment, she looked very much like a traumatized young girl. "You mean he stopped, he helped me save Trevor instead of killing us because he cares about us?"

He shrugged. "That would be my belief. I could be wrong though…"

"That would be a first!" Morgan said, standing in the doorway. "Reid being wrong… How's your brother? Any change?"

Teri shook her head. "No. His heart rhythm is stable, he's breathing on his own. The doctor said that there's no way to tell if he has brain damage until he wakes up." She looked down, her face mirroring her brother's in Morgan and Reid's motel room this morning. A scared kid trying to be an adult. "I know the post-arrest statistics. I know he should be dead. And I know that chances are that he'll be in this hospital for the rest of his life. But I don't want to know that, ya know? I don't want to be a paramedic today."

Morgan knew exactly what she meant. He felt that way every time he saw he depth of the pain one of their cases put on someone's face. But not doing this anymore won't take the knowledge away. "You're not going to quit, are you? Law enforcement? The paramedic thing?"

She gave him a weak smile that was way too knowing for her youth. "Does it look like I can quit? What else would I do?"

Morgan smiled back at her. "I know the feeling. I was going to talk you out of it, but you seem to be a step ahead of me."

Glancing up at her brother's heart monitor, her breathing caught as his heart gave 2 abnormal beats. "PVCs," she said almost to herself. "Sign of hypoxia, possible indicator of anoxic brain injury."

Reid looked over at her, watched her staring at the screen. "Did you know that the average person has 15-30 PVCs a day? Those are probably Trevor's usual daily allotment."

The grateful look on her face made Reid blush before she turned to Morgan. "I'm not quitting. Its in my blood." Teri took Trevor's hand again. "Besides, apparently, I'm the acting sheriff until my lazy little brother here gets done napping!"

Morgan patted the kid on the shoulder. She was going to be alright.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day, the jet took off at just after noon with a somber group aboard. With the exception of Hotch, who was somewhat drugged from the painkillers and was dozing off, they were all lost in their own thoughts. Gideon watched Hotch carefully, as if he expected him to break, and he was grateful the younger man was asleep. Otherwise he would get irritated with the vigil. Hotch was the type to downplay injuries and refuse any extra attention, and Gideon's excessive concern would greatly annoy him.

But being forced to watch Doc hurt him was a scarring experience. Gideon had experienced physical pain, had felt fear and on occasion thought he was going to die. But watching a team member, a _friend_ in pain as a psychopath broke ribs and fingers, cut gashes into flesh, generally tortured him just to get a reaction Gideon… that was far and away the worst experience ever. He had seen the aftermath of violence, been in a few tight spots, even watched via webcam as Reid was terrorized at the hands of Tobias Henkle, but this was different. This was sitting in the room, hearing the cries without the distortion from speakers, smelling the blood… He had worked some horrible cases, but Clayton, Kentucky would haunt him for a very long time.

Morgan contemplated the paradox that was Teri Mitchell. She was young and impulsive and childish and _young_, inside and out. She let her emotions get involved way too much. Someday, in a case that didn't involve her brother and her closest friend, that was going to cause her pain. But that was okay, because she knew that and was willing to accept that. And in the end, she was a damn good cop. And paramedic, from what he had seen. He wondered if there was anything he could do to forward her career.

Assuming her brother survived. If he didn't, or if he didn't wake up, she would probably never be able to do her job again. This was the worst part of the job. Not the violence or the people who were killed. The worst part was the people who were left behind to pick up the pieces after the handcuffs were snapped closed and the paperwork was filed. The ones who's lives would never be the same even as the team flew home and they just became a name on a file that was gathering dust. Given time, everyone on this plane would forget Teri and Trevor Mitchell, Doc and Ben, all the other victims. But Teri would never forget them.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of a call phone. Reid pulled his out of his pocket. "Hello?" His eyes brightened in surprise and pleasure. "That's wonderful! And he's…? That's amazing! I'm- we're all- so happy for you. Thanks for letting us know." He covered the phone and addressed the team. "Trevor woke up. And he's okay. No brain damage noted!"

Smiles and words of congratulations filled the small plane, getting to the young woman through Reid's phone, then his eyes narrowed in confusion. "I- I don't know. I guess so. I mean, I don't think they would. But why would you-?" He listened for a moment. "Ok. Well, I wish you guys all the best. I was glad to meet you, even though I wish the circumstances had been different." He suddenly turned very red. "Uh…sure. Yeah. Bye, Teri." He snapped the phone shut.

Morgan took in his flush and showed remarkable restraint, holding back for almost three seconds before asking. "What else did she have to say?"

Confusion overshadowed whatever was causing him to blush for the moment. She wanted to know if I thought it would be alright for them to go visit Doc. While he's in the hospital. If there were any rules against it."

Morgan nodded. "I figured as much."

Reid's face scrunched up in bewilderment. "Why would she want to visit him? He tortured her, and almost killed her brother! Not to mention that he killed several others. Whatever she thought he was, he wasn't!"

The senior agent shook his head. "It's not that simple, Reid. He's the closest thing she and Trevor had to a father. And just because he suffered a break from reality doesn't mean he didn't care a lot about them."

"I repeat: He tortured her and almost killed him."

"But he stopped. He abandoned what he thought was his mission to save Trevor. And Trevor going into insulin shock was unexpected. He didn't do that intentionally. And when he saw what was happening, it was enough to break his delusions for a little while. Whatever insanity may be in Doc's mind, he truly cares about those two."

Reid still didn't look convinced. "But the horrible things that he did…"

Morgan looked him right in the eye. He hated to play this card, but Reid truly wanted to understand. "Would you visit Tobias Henkle? Not Raphael, not the old man, the young man who was a prisoner to his delusions. The one who saved you when you were dead."

The youngest profiler didn't answer for some time, and Morgan was starting to worry that his example had gone too far. Finally Reid nodded. "Okay. I think I understand."

Morgan was almost dozing off when Reid spoke up again. "Morgan?"

"Yeah?" he replied, not even opening his eyes.

"Would you think I was crazy if I did? You know, if Tobias had survived. If I visited him, would you think I was unbalanced?"

"Absolutely," Morgan deadpanned, still keeping his eyes shut. "Go to sleep, Reid."

The younger agent smiled, and complied.


End file.
